Hard Life
by ChromaticFlare
Summary: [H2OVanoss] Jonathan lived on the streets his whole life, being treated worse than trash for what he was. An unwanted. A hybrid. A monster. Never had he met another like him, only in stories that he gave up hope on long ago. He expected to live his whole life on this damning path, but what if someone comes in and changes it all?
1. Chapter 1

Jonathan didn't know where he came from. The only memories he's ever had of someone loving him were vague and unclear, as if permanently erased from his psyche. His parents were just ghosts of his past that never seemed to help or want him. Thus his life now; a homeless, dirty raccoon with the blue eyes of a broken man that knew no love.

He tried to get help from strangers and orphanages, he really did, but it appeared that no one wanted a disgusting hybrid in their establishment. Jonathan wasn't sure why people hated him that much until a small grey haired woman shooed him out with a broom as soon as she caught sight of him sneaking into her orphanage. She yelled barbed words of hatred to him, calling him a "monster" and a "good for nothing hybrid child". With that sentence, she had opened up a world of understanding to the young pup.

He was a hybrid; a rare and utterly hated race of people that had the ability to turn into various animals. He still wasn't sure why there was such animosity between normal people and hybrids, and he was positive he'd never figure it out either.

His survival was a miracle unto itself, even Jonathan didn't know how he managed to survive the frequent years of hell. Each night was cold, hungry and alone, and each day was filled with scornful looks, the occasional beating, and digging through restaurant garbage bins while longingly staring at the delicious food within.

He never managed to teach himself how to fight, as he never seemed to have enough time to do so-but he did manage to learn other skills. Skills like thievery, lock picking, hiding, and running. Over the long years of his life to his current age of twenty-one, they helped him immensely in living to the next day and keeping him from starving to death.

His home, even today, was a small abandoned building that no one bothered to tear down. Only Jonathan in his raccoon form could get in, ensuring no one else could enter. That was the only place he felt safe and secure, where no one could look at him as if he should've dropped dead ages ago. That was the sole place that a tiny bit of happiness entered his soul, the only place that he could call his own.

Until the night he woke up to a loud roar and a rumble shook the building. They were going to break his home apart and leave him in the dust. That brings us to today, where the twenty-one year old, blue-eyed raccoon stared in disbelief as his only haven shook around him, threatening to fall in on itself.

In a quick movement, Jonathan switched to his smaller, much more flexible form and swiftly ran out of the collapsing building. His collapsing building.

Jonathan could only stare and wonder who he was in a past life to deserve this. He had nothing before now, and that building that was collapsing in front of him was the only thing he could call him own. Why did God hate him so?

Jonathan almost considered not moving when the bulldozer became dangerously close to his body, but couldn't do it. Had he been in his human form he would've laughed bitterly. Even in death he was a coward. The small raccoon made a noise faintly resembling a snort, and ran off deeper into the overcrowded city.

Now Jonathan didn't like people- never had - and he supposed the fact that he lived in a city was the greatest of ironies, but he couldn't leave the familiar place. The city's constant bustle and honking is annoying, but he honestly didn't know what could happen if he was left in complete silence to fend for himself. It was almost like a pseudo- loneliness. As if to fool himself that someone cared that he was alive, and that he did matter to others.

Alas, it was only a stupid dream that was never meant to be. Everyone and their grandma knew how Jonathan's story was going to end. One day, perhaps not soon, he was going to get jumped. Maybe not even that, maybe he'd starve to death. He didn't exactly know how, but he'd kick the bucket in these streets. One day.

Jonathan ran into another familiar looking alley and searched for a garbage bag to get warm under. That was his routine before discovering his haven, he'd just have to get used to it again. Jonathan eventually found one and tore his tiny but sharp claws through the black bag and crawled inside. The garbage clung to his already dirty fur, and smelled like last night's dinner.

He couldn't even grimace anymore. Any hint of disgust he'd ever had for this lifestyle was numbed out after a few years. It was his life. His only one.

Many would pity the poor, underfed raccoon. Well, they would if he wasn't a raccoon. Had he been normal, he could've been happy and surrounded with love. But no, he had to be a mistake. A stain upon the earth that not even he had the strength to wipe up. Jonathan was unloved and even hated himself. Truly, a pitiable sight indeed.

It was a hard life, for such a soft raccoon.


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan wasn't prepared for the massive rain storm that struck the city the next day. He woke to the soft sounds of water falling from the sky, and the wetness of said water seeping into his shelter for the night. He woke up wet, hungry, and depressed from what he lost the previous day.

Jonathan didn't bother to shake himself off, as it would be pointless by the torrent raining down upon him. If he didn't find somewhere quick, he'd be sick soon. And being sick meant being killed, because where he was, there was no medicine or throw blankets to nurse Jonathan back to health. Especially in his smaller form. Upon realizing that being small meant getting sick faster, Jonathan tried to switch back to his human skin.

He couldn't. Jonathan began to panic as more time passed and he was unable to become the other part of himself. The only part that humans accepted of him into society. If he couldn't do that...he was screwed.

So, Jonathan stood there. Hoping against hope that he'd not lost another thing that was essential to his continued survival. For five, long minutes he stood there being drenched in the rain. His fur was matted and all the garbage that previously been on his back was washed off.

The tiny, even smaller now, raccoon sneezed harshly. This sparked Jonathan out of his desperate attempts to turn and instead switched his focus to getting somewhere safe. Or, safer, anyway.

He didn't have to scurry on the sidewalks long before he caught sight of a concrete slab that had been turned over. Thanking his lucky stars, Jonathan ran inside and ignored the wet and slightly flooded ground. This was as best as it was going to get- and he knew it.

The rain pattered on for hours. By the halfway mark Jonathan was sneezing and coughing every few minutes, invoking his fear of being ill. He could do nothing, though, as the sickness and hunger combined and thoroughly weakened him. He couldn't move anymore, he'd lost feeling to his paws thirty minutes ago and his eyelids were dropping at an alarming rate.

Jonathan tried determinedly to keep them open, for he knew what would happen as soon as he gave in. Death.

The life he so desperately and honestly cared for for years by small miracles was being snuffed out so easily. Once again, Jonathan wished he was a human. At least to convey his emotions instead of awkwardly trying to use a raccoon's facial features.

I lived a worthless life, Jonathan reflected. No one helped me and no one knew of my existence till the end. He didn't even know why he was surprised. He knew it was going to end up like this, just not so soon.

Jonathan sighed, and with a final conscious prayer to whomever was above, his eyes slipped closed.

Evan had no idea why he was here.

No, really. He could've been at home with the guys eating some of Craig's delicious pot pie, but nooooo the guys just had to have their sodas!

Can't they just drink a water for once in their life? Evan sneered.

So here he was, walking in the pouring cold rain to get a couple of guys some coke. The things he did for them he swore...

He hadn't even reached the store yet when his walk was cut short by a sudden and unexpected noise. It sounded like a warped cough. It was a small sound, just barely heard above the rainfall, and it had a undertone of bitterness to it.

He wasn't sure where it came from...but he thought he might've heard it from under the concrete slab by his right. Taking a wild guess, Evan cautiously set down his umbrella, stepped over to the sound and leaned over to look underneath, uncaring of his now-soaked clothes.

Under the slab, was a sleeping raccoon. A rather small one, with a gaunt structure and matted fur. Evan had no idea what a raccoon was doing in the city. They usually weren't native around here...

The raccoon twitched a bit, but otherwise stayed unconscious and unaware of it's spectator. It looked cold, shivering violently and hiding it's face in it's paws as if to keep warmth. It was adorable, truth be told.

Evan would have taken the poor thing home in a heartbeat if he didn't have roommates that could potentially not want to take care of it. Evan sighed, upset at the realization that he'd have to leave it here, and trudged back to his original destination.

He only made it as far as the stop sign a few feet away. Quickly, without giving himself time to regret it, Evan jogged back and carefully put his hands under the slab to grab at the animal gently. When he finally got ahold of the thin creature, he slid the body out for under the slab and opened his soaked jacket.

It'll be cold, but it's better than nothing, Evan reasoned when he placed the raccoon into his red and white striped coat. With no time spared, Evan forgoes going to the store and instead went straight back home with the raccoon, leaving his umbrella. Maybe it was because he was part animal too, but Evan was hell-bent on helping this poor defenseless animal.

Evan shortly arrived at his home that he shared with the other hybrids. Taking a steading breath, he prepared himself for the onslaught of questions that would proceed his entrance. Stepping forward, Evan opened the door and went in with his new charge.


	3. Chapter 3

Jonathan floated in the never-ending abyss that he thought was death.

It was a scary experience, yet at the same time it was a chilling bliss for Jonathan. He was free from the tortures of his daily life. No more hunger, no more cold, no more pain. He was free! Jonathan smiled inwardly. This was it.

His end.

Hours could've passed, maybe days, until a faint voice was heard. It was light-hearted and whispered of home and comforts. Jonathan was instantly and unexplainably drawn to it. Suddenly, a bright beacon of light illuminated the empty space Jonathan floated in. It threatened the dark and chased it away.

Jonathan was left standing in the white light, his body becoming increasingly hotter and hotter until he was sweating profusely. Jonathan was confused. What was happening? What happened to his peaceful death?

Can I not be happy even in death? Jonathan started tearing up. Why could he never find peace?!

The voice sounded out again, louder now.

It seemed to be having a conversation. Different voices started chiming in, but none as alluring as the first. A few hazy words could be made out:

"...Won't...no...he doesn't...just...animal...fine!"

The last word was pronounced loudly, as if announcing his fate. Jonathan, at this moment, woke up from his comatose state.

Evan snuck into the large house just outside the city. He tip toed in, shut the door, and tried to be silent as the other guys yelled at the screen, where Lui, Tyler, Brian and David were playing Smash Bros.

Sounds of video game fighting could be heard as Evan steeled himself to face them. He then purposely took a loud step, as if he'd just came in. Tyler, without looking at him, said "Damn that was fast, man. You got the drinks?"

"No. But I found something else instead..." Evan trailed off.

The guys paused the game and looked behind them, where Evan stood soaking next to the door and dripping water onto the floor steadily. Hesitating, Evan pulled back his jacket and showed the shivering, sleeping raccoon.

There was yelling as soon as they caught sight of what he was holding.

Tyler, Marcel and Brian immediately started protesting at the new addition while Lui and David watched passively. In stark contrast, Brock and Craig could only coo at the adorable little animal snuggling into Evan's jacket. By this time it's iconic striped tail had unconsciously wrapped itself around Evan's arm.

"Evan! It's a wild animal! You can't just adopt a raccoon!" Marcel shouted. For a moment, Evan worried about the raccoon waking up, but was relieved when it didn't stir.

"So? We're animals too! I won't just leave a defenseless animal out in the cold!" Evan retorted. Marcel shook his head in exasperation while Tyler took ahold of the argument.

"It doesn't belong in a house Evan! It's just an animal, it's not like it's a hybrid."

Brian chimed in, "Evan, we can't take in any animal we find. He could be vicious." he reasoned

Evan huffed, annoyed by their pessimism. Craig looked over to Tyler. "Come on, Tyler! Look at him, he's adorable!" Craig whined. Tyler looked away, not prepared to argue with Craig. He thought for a minute, and relented.

"Fine! Do what you want! But when he eventually breaks something or pisses in the house, it's your fault, got it?" Tyler emphasized. Craig beamed and practically ran to Evan and his charge.

"He's so cute!" Craig cooed again, obviously wanting to pet the raccoon but refraining himself. Brock joined him soon after, cooing just the same. Evan chuckled at their antics and froze when he felt movement from the animal in his arms.

The raccoon started to shift, and opened a strangely bright blue eye. It squinted, then opened both eyes quickly. It looked curious and confused as to where it was. As if processing, the raccoon slowly looked up, and met Evan's chocolate brown eyes. They locked eyes, and Evan watched as the blue eyes widened considerably.

The raccoon squeaked, and the other guys in the background stopped talking, seeming to notice what was happening. It wiggled roughly in Evan's hold, causing Evan to accidentally drop it to the ground.

The raccoon- surprised at being dropped- landed awkwardly on it's side and squeaked, this time in pain. Evan shouted in shock when it hit the ground, and automatically reached down to grab it again. The raccoon, however, collected itself quickly and jumped back from Evan, hissing offensively.

Tyler from across the room couldn't help but quip, "Told ya".

The raccoon, startled by the sudden noise, looked around again and noticed the large amount of people in the room. It appeared to be terrified, and scurried between Evan's legs to the door behind him. It's little paws scratched at the wooden door, leaving carvings.

Huh. Smart raccoon. Evan couldn't help but think.

"Get it to stop! It's ruining the door!" Marcel shouted. The raccoon jumped in fright again and whipped around to face it's crowd. Evan, not wanting to scare it further, kneeled down and reached his hand out to comfort the raccoon.

The animal flinched and pressed it's wet back further into the door. It hissed again, showing its sharp teeth and Evan's hand retreated. He was compassionate, but he still didn't want to get bitten by a potentially rabid animal.

The raccoon, without warning, ran through all of them to up the stairs and out of sight. Craig and Brock followed after it, the rest following a second later. Before Evan got to the first step, however, Tyler grabbed his elbow and pulled to the side.

"Just like I said, your at fault here if anything happens." He reminded Evan sternly.

Evan nodded and pulled his arm away to go get his raccoon. Yells could be heard from upstairs and Evan wasted no time meeting them, Tyler right behind him.

Opening the door to Brock's bedroom, Evan saw Craig looking under the bed while the others stood around it, talking with each other about what to do with the wild animal. Marcel threw out the idea of luring it outside while Brian suggested pushing it out from under the bed with a broom. Liking neither idea and not wanting them to think too much about it, Evan rushed forward.

A small whimpering could be heard from under the king sized bed as he neared closer. The sheer amount of people in the too-small room must've been scaring the animal. Evan realized this immediately. "Guys! Shut up and get out. Brock, Craig and Lui stay here with me." Evan pulled his 'leader voice' and commanded them.

The hybrids were usually pretty independent, and most of them hated taking orders, but all respected Evan immensely- including Tyler. So, in accordance to his demand, all but Craig, Brock, Lui and Evan left the room and closed the door.

The raccoon's whimpering was quieter now, but still there. Evan kneeled down next to Craig and looked under the bed with him while Lui and Brock stood to the side and watched them.

There, under the bed in the very back corner of the dark space was a thin, still very wet raccoon shivering in fear.


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan could only be stunned as he woke up and blearily opened his eyes. Where was he...? It was soft and the scent that surrounded him was familiar. His tail had twisted around the soft surface without his knowing, and he was dripping wet.

He wasn't under the concrete anymore, that was for sure. His surroundings were too warm, too happy for a place he belonged in. Ending on that depressing thought, Jonathan looked around to see himself held above the ground. His heart seized at the height so he swiftly looked up instead, not expecting to meet warm chocolate brown eyes staring back at him.

His eyes widened, the height forgotten and instead replaced with various thoughts of what the hell.

The last thing he'd expected to be was in the arms of another person-usually normal people try their best to treat him with scorn, not hold him as if he was precious cargo.

Jonathan was immediately suspicious of the situation. There was no way someone would actually go out of their way to help a raccoon, especially a hybrid raccoon.

The chocolate eyes seemed to search his for something, what that was Jonathan didn't know. An unexpected voice sounded out from further into the room, startling Jonathan. The raccoon looked around to see that the man holding him wasn't the only person in the room. In fact there were seven, all staring at him intensely.

If Jonathan were a normal being, he'd only be slightly uncomfortable, but he wasn't. He was an anxiety ridden, abused hybrid that had never known anything but hate, so to him this was a death sentence. Yelping, Jonathan wiggled out of the man's hold and fell to the ground on his side.

It hurt, especially since his wounds from the last fight with another stray dog hadn't healed all the way through. He could only be lucky that the humans hadn't noticed yet, as Jonathan dared not show any weakness to the group.

Jonathan collected himself before the nice-smelling man could pick him up again, hissed, and ran between their legs to the wooden door.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a bit accomplished when he left small markings on their door-they'd kill him, but he'd die content knowing he messed up even a small part of their lives.

One of the other men in the room yelled in protest of his actions, and Jonathan felt a bit smug at the call-out. He stopped soon, though, after realizing that the man in the red jacket-the nice smelling one- had knelt down to his level and reached a hand out.

Jonathan was immediately on the offensive, not believing the intents of the hand for one second. He was too notorious, too hated to be treated with kindness. He almost didn't understand the gesture, he wouldn't have had he not seen it happen to children when he was little and still accepted in the orphanage.

Jonathan backed into the front door, his wet back chafing uncomfortably. The man pulled his hand back quickly, probably afraid of the sharp teeth Jonathan was flashing at him.

Jonathan was panicking. They weren't acting natural. He didn't care how nice or homey feeling someone's scent is-they weren't to be trusted. No one should care nor want to care about him, to him this was a red herring.

Without a second thought, Jonathan ran to the upstairs into the closest room he could find and under the bed. He holed up in the farthest corner and prayed no one would get a fire poker (as such a thing had happened before and not ended with happy results).

Not a minute later a crowd of six people came in-the red jacket man noticeably missing from the group. Jonathan was getting stressed, there was no way he'd make it out alive. These people were going to kill him, that's the only reason why they'd bring him to their home.

One of the men leaned down to look at him from under the bed. Jonathan was sure his eyes glowed a stunning blue as he stared back at them, daring them to make a move. He'd heard talk about getting brooms to flush him out, and he was totally against such an idea.

The man cooed and clicked his tongue, as if calling to an anim- Jonathan froze.

Did they not know he was a hybrid?

Surely they did, everyone knew of the hated and infamous hybrid raccoon that lived in the streets. Thats why no one bothered to help him, even in human form-he was immediately recognized as the city's plague upon the earth.

Jonathan didn't know how to feel. He was numbed. An epiphany suddenly came upon him; this was his chance.

This was his final chance from the heavens to start over! Jonathan could almost whoop with joy. He could act like a raccoon, a domestic one, and be accepted. It wasn't as himself, the human he always was, but it was something! He'd rather be accepted for something he's not than not be accepted at all. He'd just have to figure out a way to win them over.

And he knew he'd already got two of the nine under his thumb, from their earlier reactions.

He could do this, he could win them all over. Maybe.

The door opened, jolting him from his planning, and the red jacket man walked in with a another tall man that smelled faintly of pigs.

In fact, many of the men in the house smelled like one animal or another. How odd.

The red jacket man kneeled with the first one, and stuck his hand out again. Jonathan would have scoffed if he wasn't trying to act like a normal raccoon-surely this man would know not to just stick his hand out to whatever animal he's looking at.

Jonathan huffed, unnoticeable to the other men in the room-which were down to four, as the red jacket man dismissed the rest. Jonathan made a mental note of that; the red jacket man was the leader, if he got the leader's trust he had all of their trust.

The red jacket man-Jonathan hoped to learn his name soon- clicked his tongue again, beckoning him to come. Feeling a bit degraded, Jonathan made his move and shuffled forward to the mans hand, acting as an animal would and sniffed it cautiously first.

Jonathan was well-aware of his deceit to these men, but he was a "worthless and useless raccoon", the least he could do was act the part. He only wanted to survive, as his home from before was reduced to rubble. Besides, Jonathan had no false hope about this-they loved his animal act, not him.

No one could love him.


	5. Chapter 5

Jonathan sniffed the red jacketed man's hand and rubbed his head affectionately against it. He was somewhat disgusted with himself. Look at him, a (maybe) homeless man stooping down to the level of a begging animal. It was just...sad.

Then again, he never seemed to be more than that anyway. It was almost like he thought he was worth something. Hah.

The red jacketed man smiled softly at Jonathan's actions, not realizing the inner turmoil beneath his fluffy striped fur. The man then, in a bold move, slid his hands under Jonathan's stomach and hugged him to his chest tightly. Jonathan wasn't ready for this motion and panicked-this was weird, even if the man thought he was just a raccoon. No one just embraced a potentially dangerous animal. At this point Jonathan was seriously questioning whether this guy's mental state was okay or not, and if he should risk staying with him and his group.

His decision was made for him when the man's friend-the one who'd kneeled down earlier and wore glasses-asked the red jacketed man what they'd do with it later. Jonathan didn't really know how to feel about constantly being called an 'it'.

"Well...it seems fairly trained. It hissed, but got used to us quickly so it's not really a hazard..." The man answered, then paused, thinking.

"I can keep it in my room." He said unexpectedly. The other man looked at him skeptically, while the other two in the room watched with interest. Jonathan was just as skeptical as the first guy. He wanted to have a home, yeah, but he didn't want to spend his days locked up in some smelly bedroom either. He snorted, trying to convey his discontent to the humans in the room.

The message wasn't received.

"I mean...if you want to, but Evan, that seems like a lot of work and time. Especially since you have other things to worry about too." The glasses man replied.

Jonathan smiled inwardly, his other thoughts replaced with the name he had just acquired. The red jacketed man's name was Evan...Jonathan liked the name. Inexplicably, he felt even more drawn to the stranger holding him more than ever.

"Don't worry about it! I've got this. If the...other things are affected by the raccoon being here, we'll get rid of it. But I doubt that'll happen."

Jonathan was seriously beginning to wonder what these other things were, and how it would affect his life. Maybe he shouldn't have acted so nice...

And what was the definition of 'get rid of it' to them? Jonathan had thought that this place was safe because they didn't know about him being a hybrid, but maybe that's just as dangerous (if not more) than them knowing about him.

He tried not to look so scared in Evan's arms.

The other man sighed heavily, and stopped arguing with Evan. "C'mon Craig! I bet the only reason you're sad is because you wanted to take care of it." Evan snipped.

The man-Craig- pouted and turned away, as if caught doing something bad. Evan chuckled, and Jonathan could feel the vibrations of the action against him. It was an unbelievably comfortable and safe feeling.

...Dammit! No matter how much he questioned his decision, this stupid man-Evan- keeps making him want to stay! Jonathan raged inside his head.

It wasn't fair of this stranger to give him such emotions when they'd just met! Little did Jonathan know that most of his and Evan's relationship was going to be like this.

Jonathan was so deep in his mind's conflict that he neglected to notice when Evan took a syringe from one of the other men until he stuck the raccoon with it.

Jonathan would've screeched-and probably ruined his domestic act-had he not immediately began to lose consciousness and fall asleep to the drug they gave him.

It had happened so fast-like many of the other things that had happened in the past few minutes since he woke up-that he couldn't process what had happened until it was done.

But if Jonathan knew one thing, it was that any and all hope of trusting them was gone in a hopeless instant.

'I knew they weren't to be trusted' Jonathan thought regretfully before his mind fell victim to the approaching blackness.

Evan was a bit sad to see the little animal fall limp in his arms. For some reason, it felt like he'd just betrayed the raccoon. Even though raccoons weren't supposed to understand such emotions...

Evan shook his head subtly, he was just being ridiculous.

Evan had known what Brock and Lui wanted to do the moment Brock (who worked as their medic) locked eyes with him and looked pointedly to the raccoon. They wanted to examine it for wounds and infections.

Evan couldn't really deny the man, as he knew best, but he still felt a tinge of regret in him. He obliged still, and took the syringe that no doubt held sedatives from Brock and injected the animal.

It twitched and wiggled weakly in his arms, clawing at his damp sleeves. It gave one more shiver and finally fell still, almost as if in death. Evan felt a bit uneasy at that thought.

He didn't really know why he decided to save the raccoon. It wasn't too special, nor did he particularly like raccoons, but he couldn't seem to leave it there in the cold. He told himself that it was because he was a hybrid and had a connection to animals, but deep in his mind he knew that was a lie. He honestly didn't know why he cared, it was just luck that he found the creature, but something inside him told him that he shouldn't leave it alone by itself to die.

That thought hurt him a bit. The thought of dying alone with no one to care...he couldn't even imagine such a sad fate.

"Hey...can I take it? Do you want to come?" Brock said softly, seeming to notice Evan's melancholic thoughts. Evan nodded in the affirmative to Brock's question and willingly handed over the raccoon to the medic for a medical exam. Lui and Craig followed silently as they headed to the third floor to treat the raccoon.

Evan could only pray nothing was wrong with the tiny animal as they opened the doors to reveal a sterile white room with a single bed in the middle, surrounded by various expensive machines. Craig and Lui opted to wait outside the doors while Evan and Brock went inside to diagnose the raccoon. Evan took a deep breathe, and readied himself for a long night.

It was at this moment Evan took things into perspective. What had started as a night full of fun and gaming ended with a mysterious, wet raccoon.

What a strange night it was, Evan thought.


	6. Chapter 6

The raccoon was not fine.

That was the very first thing Evan and Brock had found out after a few minutes of really looking at it.

Underneath its -rather thick- fur multiple wounds littered the skin of various sizes and shapes. "They all look different...this one is probably from blunt force, this one from a sharp blade, this one from a...poker?" Brock determined uneasily.

Evan shivered at the sight. Sure, he'd been through many hardships and had quite the collection of scars, but this...some scars looked a decade old while some look like they'd been inflicted only days ago. Blood and other liquids oozed out of some open wounds while other older ones had crusted over, taunting infections.

It didn't come as a surprise when Brock said that the raccoon had a mild fever, as infection had already set in a while back.

"I'm surprised that it hasn't died yet." Brock commented. "Are you sure it's worth the medical supplies?"

Evan nodded, resolved in his decision to save this little animal. He wouldn't help and give it hope just to throw it away now. No, his decision was made.

Brock said nothing further and picked up a nearby bottle of antiseptic and some gloves, pulling them on and pouring the antiseptic on the open wounds. The raccoon screeched in pain and Evan leapt to hold it down as it writhed on the cold examination table. It's dirty paws tearing at the table as Evan held it down sternly by the neck and hindquarters. When Brock finished it was left whimpering weakly, it's energy already used up by its earlier movements. Evan let it go slowly, keeping his hands close and wary of any unexpected movements.

Brock then picked up gauze, as nothing more could be done but wrap the open injuries in bandages to ward off further problems. Evan picked up the limp raccoon once more and held it out as Brock wrapped the gauze around most of it's body, including two of its legs. The raccoon only let it's head droop pathetically in its slumber while this was occurring. Evan silently 'awed' at the snoozing creature.

"Now, for more...internal things" Brock continued on. Evan wondered what that meant, but didn't voice his inquiry.

Brock moved around the table, poking the raccoon in different areas; seeming to check for internal signs of injuries. Evan only watched, as he knew nothing about medics or what they did. Brock seemed a bit upset when he looked back at Evan, signaling he was done.

Evan was worried, Brock's expression wasn't inspiring any confidence in him.

"Where did you find the raccoon again?" Brock asked.

"Umm...under a bit of concrete, on the way to the convenience store."

Brock hummed in acknowledgement, looking back the the unconscious animal. "It...it doesn't seem to have any claws on it's back feet..." he stated his concerns.

Evan wasn't entirely sure what Brock was insinuating. So what it didn't have back claws? Brock seemed to read Evan's thoughts:

"Think about it like this Evan: why would an animal -whose lived it's whole life homeless- have only it's back claws declawed? In fact, why would it have this many scars if it's been alone on the streets with almost nothing to kill it except hunger, cars and a stray dog or two?" Brock attempted to portray the situation to Evan without outright saying it.

Evan connected the dots quickly, coming to the same conclusion as the medic.

"You think it's been abused." He stated more than asked. Brock nodded solemnly.

"Why would someone torture some random raccoon on the street? It doesn't make sense-unless you're a sick bastard." Evan wondered. "Are you sure it wasn't some freak accident that happened to it on the streets?"

Brock shook his head, motioning to the declawed feet-now that Evan looked closer he saw the small scars surrounding the swollen area where the claws were present previously. "See that?" Brock pointed to the scars, "These markings strongly suggest it was intentionally done, with a tool of some kind."

Evan still wasn't convinced, "Well, they declaw cats all the time, why is this such a big deal?"

Brock rolled his eyes, "Evan, be real. People declaw cats to avoid injuries because they keep said cats, not to release them out into the wild again. It's inhumane to declaw an animal and then let it out into the world without them, leaving them defenseless- and these wounds look decades old, meaning it's not just some runaway pet that someone kept." He reasoned.

"Plus they look like they were pulled out forcefully, with a lot of struggle. This hints that the animal wasn't sedated or sleeping during the process." He finished.

Evan's blood ran cold at the explanation. "So...you're telling me that it was tortured at one point?"

Brock nodded. Who would do such a thing? Who would be so sick that they'd take an already sad and homeless animal and torture it? Evan was glad he wasn't apart of the human race, he'd be ashamed of himself if he was.

Evan let out a long drawn breath and lifted his hand to tenderly pet the small animal's soft head. It didn't make a move, too deep in sleep to notice the affectionate gesture. Evan looked pityingly at it and made a silent vow to himself.

He would make this animal happy, no matter what it took.

That was his vow, and he'd be damned if he ever broke it.

Brock ended the examination with a severe warning to feed the raccoon as soon as it woke up, and sent Evan and his charge to Evan's room to sleep. Evan readily agreed and walked out with Brock giving him another sedative for the raccoon, telling him it was "to get through the night".

As soon as he stepped out the medical room, Evan met Lui and Craig outside the doors. Craig was enthusiastically himself again, asking if they were going to keep it for sure, while Lui was smiling at the adorable sight of the raccoon.

Evan told them he was going to bed, and bid them goodnight as he walked past them and down the stairs. When he stepped in his room, Evan wasted no time grabbing a spare throw blanket and carefully wrapping the snoozing animal in it. He set up a bundle of blankets on the floor and put the raccoon on them, ensuring a comfortable sleeping place for it.

He laid in bed and looked at his ceiling. Pondering many things that happened and how things even got to this point. Soon, Evan found himself thinking of what to call the raccoon. He couldn't very well keep calling it an 'it', so what should he do... Evan rolled over and leaned on the side of the bed to look at the animal while thinking of a name. It was twitching and squirming repeatedly, as if deliriously looking for food or comfort in its fever.

Delirious...while an odd name (if a name at all) Evan thought it had a certain ring to it. It was a unique name that seemed to fit so well with the lost scavenger on his floor. Delirious; that's what he'll call it.

Delirious.


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn't until the sun the next day was just barely rising did Jonathan wake up. The warm but intruding sunlight glared in from the window of the bedroom, nearly blinding him when he opened a sleep-filled eye.

It only took seconds for the raccoon to remember where he was-and how he got there.

Jonathan was suddenly more awake than ever, eyes now darting to and fro to look for the potential threats in the room. His eyes soon landed on the sleeping man sprawled out on a comfortable surface quite far from the ground. Evan's face was snugly pushed against the soft covers and a light snore could just barely be heard.

Even for such a harmless looking environment, Jonathan remembered with sharp clarity what had happened the previous night. He felt threatened, and a bit confused. They could have killed him-anyone else would've.

Deciding to put off the unimportant questions until he was safe on the streets (as weird as that sounded), Jonathan used most of the little energy he had into morphing into his less vulnerable human form. He felt the familiar spark of electricity go down his spine, signaling the start of his transformation.

A few seconds later and a short brunet with dazzling blue eyes stood in the place of the dirty raccoon.

Jonathan wasn't entirely sure why he couldn't have morphed earlier, but he chalked it up to him being weak and tired. It didn't matter anyway, as he could morph now and that was all that mattered to him.

During this whole process, Evan didn't stir. Not a twitch was seen from the sleeping man. Jonathan thanked his lucky stars at the turnout.

Now, to escape.

This was the tricky part of any of Jonathan's getaways; the ability to sneak away without being seen. He'd only been caught once, and that was an experience he'd never want to relive. So, as quietly as humanly (or not-humanly) possible, Jonathan stepped to the door of the bedroom and cautiously turned the doorknob. His blue eyes peeked out from the door and saw a long hallway connected to various other doors, presumably to the other guys' bedrooms. Jonathan realized that this was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

That feeling was amplified when he heard a muffled curse from downstairs.

One of the guys was downstairs for one reason or another, to Jonathan though the reason didn't matter as long as he could get out the front door safely. He slipped out from Evan's room and walked to the stair's landing. They looked daunting as ever, especially since the raccoon knew that at any moment the guy downstairs could decide he wanted to return to his room and ruin Jonathan's plan. He sucked up his fear and told himself he could freak out later-as he'd done many times before- and steadily descended the stairs.

The guy was in the kitchen, banging around and whispering more cuss words to himself. Jonathan would've laughed had he not been trying to hide.

It was only when Jonathan was five feet from the door did the guy in the kitchen appear in the kitchen door way.

In a moment of sheer panic, Jonathan transformed back into his raccoon form with a swift flash. Luckily the guy seemed too distracted with his cereal to notice the flash. Unluckily though, he wasn't so oblivious as to not notice the raccoon standing in the middle of the hall close-so close-to the door.

The guy, who like the others smelled of an animal of some kind (a monkey?), started a bit at the sight of Jonathan. Some of his cereal milk spilled to the floor when the man jumped; making Jonathan inwardly giggle at the shocked expression.

Stop it, Jonathan reminded himself. This wasn't a good time for laughing. They were going to kill him if he didn't escape! The guy, sensing the raccoon's urgency, placed the cereal bowl on the nearby dining table and darted forward to grab at the animal.

They did so successfully, and held the raccoon to their chest with one hand as one would a small dog. Jonathan tried not to feel too degraded at the gesture.

"Aren't you Evan's pet?" The man said, as if expecting an answer from a raccoon. Jonathan would've snorted.

The voice was similar to that of the one that yelled in protest to Jonathan living here, Jonathan became tense at the idea of the very same man holding him. If anyone was sure to kill him, it'd be the ones that didn't want him here in the first place. Jonathan tried with all his might to struggle his way out of the man's grip, but to no avail.

A door was heard shutting from upstairs, announcing that someone else was soon to join them in the dining room. Jonathan looked longingly at the door, cursing his luck and regretting ever thanking his unlucky stars.

He wasn't going to get out. He was surely going to die at the hands of people that didn't even know he was a hybrid.

Jonathan could've cried.

The next face that was seen coming downstairs was the same man that handed the syringe to Evan and doused him with that painful liquid. To Jonathan, this man was his equivalent of his torturer, and so Jonathan's stress level climbed up to unimaginable heights when his blue eyes landed on the other man. The man looked vaguely confused as to what he walked in on.

"Marcel, why do you have Evan's raccoon?" Once again, Jonathan tried not to take it personally when he was considered someone else's property. On the bright side (or not-so bright side) he found out that the man's name was Marcel. Jonathan wondered why he'd ever care seeing as he was going to leave either way-through death or escape.

Marcel shrugged at the other man. "I found him downstairs near the door.", he explained. The other man hummed at this.

"That's weird, Evan's door should've been shut. How did the raccoon get out?" He questioned. Once again Marcel shrugged, he had no answer to the question.

"Might as well just return it to his room I guess." Marcel said. Jonathan's hope plummeted even further.

As was suggested, Marcel knocked on Evan's door loudly. A annoyed moan was heard beyond the door and it opened soon to reveal the sluggish face of the man that originally screwed over the raccoon.

Evan perked up immediately once he saw Jonathan, and spastically looked back at his own room as to reassure himself he wasn't seeing things. Jonathan was confused and a little scared at the movement.

"H-How...?" Evan trailed off.

"I don't know, but take your pet and make sure it doesn't just leave your room again."

Evan took Jonathan back into his hands and shut the door once Marcel left. He looked down at the raccoon in confusion. "Delirious, how the hell did you get out?"

Delirious? Who was Delirious? Jonathan wondered. Is that what they decided to call him? Delirious? This man was getting more and more weird as time passed, and he'd only met him a day ago!

Evan shook his head dismissively, and missed the raccoon's sigh of relief as he did so. Jonathan wouldn't get found out yet-at least that was a plus. Evan set the raccoon down on the comfortable bed and walked to the bathroom, thankfully shutting the door after him. The sound of water flowing was heard soon after.

In all this, Jonathan came to a conclusion. For whatever reason, they weren't going to kill him. He didn't know why, nor did he know why they drugged him earlier and tortured him soon after, but what he did know was that no torturer he'd ever met had acted this way before. They'd always want to hurt him and kill him straight away, and they certainly never gave him a name.

In no way did this mean that he trusted them-and certainly not that other guy from earlier this morning-but the pressure to escape lessoned greatly, and he found himself more reluctant to go back on the streets than before.

So with that in mind, Jonathan continued on with his plan.


	8. Chapter 8

Evan's POV

"Eat!"

"Eat, damn you!" Delirious continued to stubbornly look away from the cat food. Evan was at his wits end with this stupid raccoon; no matter what he tried, it wouldn't eat. Evan wasn't sure if Delirious was mentally defective or just didn't care that he was starving himself.

Delirious' ringed tail whipped around aggressively at his tone. He -or so Brock said it was a he- looked just as annoyed as the man shoving the animal food in his face.

Brock, eating cereal from the nearby dining table, snorted at the scene.

Brock seemed to hold the raccoon's attention more than the much needed food in front of it, prompting Evan to wonder about the raccoon's inability to survive. Delirious chirped and flipped around to the dining table, where Brock -and subsequently his cheerios- were sitting. His silky tail gently slapped Evan across the face as he turned.

Evan couldn't help but feel a small pang of betrayal when the raccoon left the recently bought dog bowl for Brock. He didn't really know why, as it was just an animal, but the personality of the raccoon seemed to resonate with him; creating a stronger bond. Or so Evan reasoned with himself.

Evan watched the raccoon place it's little paw on Brock's thigh. Brock and Evan were the only ones downstairs-Marcel had left for work earlier-so the next scene went unnoticed to the other residents of the house. The raccoon, in a swift jump, used Brock's thigh as a springboard to the table.

Once completely on the table, Delirious knocked off Brock's spoon and pushed his hand away from the cheerios.

Delirious shoved his face into the bowl and drank*.

Brock face was stunned and a bit outraged at his loss. If Evan thought the raccoon was human, he'd sworn that it looked smug.

"Ewww! It's still dirty and everything!" Brock complained, referring to the hygienic state of Delirious.

Evan chuckled hesitantly, not knowing whether to laugh or scold Delirious.

Brock threw his hands up exasperatingly. He, like Evan, had taken special care to not overly touch Delirious; as memories of recent discoveries haunted them. Brock and Evan refrained themselves from picking up Delirious from the table, so they stared hesitatingly and uselessly as the animal chowed down. Evan soon found himself intently gazing at Delirious' bandages that hid the secrets of what Delirious had gone through.

If raccoons could talk, Evan would be demanding to know who did it and where they lived.

For...diplomatic reasons...obviously.

Delirious himself looked confused at the lack of action to his bold move. He stopped drinking the milk and sapphire blue eyes landed on Evan. Confusion and perhaps a bit of guilt could be seen in them. Delirious' heart could be heard speeding up to unhealthy levels, and Evan moved to console the animal. He didn't like the thought of Delirious panicking and being frightened.

Evan smiled reassuringly, not really sure why he was trying to reassure an animal from being scared, but doing it anyway. Delirious' heart slowed back to a comfortable level, and he dipped his head, Evan wasn't totally sure if he really saw it.

Delirious stepped back from the bowl and hopped back down out of sight, giving Evan a near heart attack when a small squeak was heard from the impact. He prepared to rush over, but soon enough a disheveled raccoon appeared behind the table.

"So...does this means it doesn't eat cat food?" Brock wondered. Delirious, as if knowing what they were discussing, shoved his paw out behind him and kicked over the dog bowl. The tiny pieces of kibble scattered across the floor and the bowl was -violently- shoved away.

Evan snorted unattractively, "Well that answers that question." He replied. Delirious' tail finally stopped lashing.

Jonathan's POV

He didn't mean to be so picky, really he didn't. But that food... Jonathan shivered. It was inedible.

He gained a sudden appreciation for all those cats and dogs that ate that shit on a daily basis.

Jonathan would rather eat trash, he wasn't even kidding.

After he was caught in the middle of his escape attempt, Evan brought him back down shortly after Marcel had left. Evan tried to feed him that sludge, but he wouldn't have it. Jonathan was even more comfortable stealing the man-that-tortured-him's cereal and facing his wrath than eating it.

He did it with caution, though, taking a moment to see whether the man would lash out if he placed a hand -paw- on him. When he didn't, Jonathan made a bold move and jumped onto the table to take his cheerios.

Jonathan couldn't help but be reminded of the last time he actually jumped on a table. It was at the orphanage and he wanted to impress the other children. Unfortunately, the service workers went out of their minds when he did it and the aftermath was not pleasant; he was sent to "the silent room" for two days. To say it was scary was an understatement.

Now that he thought about it, Jonathan was pretty confident that "the silent room" was purely meant for him and his "kind". A wave of sadness and loneliness washed over him. He probably could've died of starvation in there and no one would've cared.

Releasing himself from his own depressing thoughts, Jonathan looked at Evan, surprised to see a bit of anger in Evan's brown eyes. It wasn't for or because of Jonathan, but Jonathan himself didn't know that.

Cowed by this expression, Jonathan's heart sped up and his throat closed up in fear. Trying to pacify Evan, he twisted his face into a semi-human expression of guilt- or as close as he could get it without someone getting suspicious. He was relieved immediately when he saw the man give a smile of forgiveness. Without further instruction, Jonathan jumped off the table and landed with a painful 'thump'.

A discussion of his food tastes started and soon ended with Jonathan expressively telling them that he didn't appreciated animal food.

"He must've been kinda spoiled on all that human food-garbage as it was." Brock concluded. Jonathan was content letting them think that and didn't make a move to prove otherwise.

"Food, done. Now, onto other things-like hygiene." Evan said to himself, as if mentally checking off a list. Jonathan just barely heard him under his breath, however he was too late in realizing what that entailed for him and was gently but firmly picked up before he could scram.

He knew what was next, and would fight tooth and nail before he would give in to Evan's wants.

A bath.


	9. Story Posted!

I'm not going to lie, I'm lazy as hell. So instead of posting each chapter on , i'm just going to tell you that the whole story (plus a bit more) is posted on wattpad under the same title name. If you have trouble finding it just ask me for help :/

Sorry about that.


End file.
